Word of the Day: Frisson

I was just thinking today about why I’m so sure this is the man for me. I don’t really believe that there’s only one person for each of us. That’s a very narrow view, especially if you lose your partner or spouse to death. There might be one for some, but I can’t say for sure that’s for me. What I do know is that I am sure this is the man I want to marry, the man I want to have children with, and the man I want to grow old with. I will be a very lucky woman if I get all 3 of those, but I would settle for the last two. Bryce is more that I had hoped for and is giving me an amazing life full of love and the future. Sure, he’s annoying as fuck sometimes. I probably (definitely) am too, but he would never say that. He never says anything bad about me. And when I say I’m annoying, it’s more like I’m a miserable bitch. But I’m also quite logical and reasonable so I know when I’m doing it and try to check myself. He tries to make me happy again.

We’ve had conversations about marriage. I told him early on that although it’s not a deal-breaker for me, I would prefer to get married. In recent years, I’ve been on the fence about marriage. If I met someone who wanted to, definitely. If I met someone who didn’t want to, that was ok too. But then I met Bryce and I know I want to marry him. I have told him that if he doesn’t want to, or doesn’t want to right away, I need to know that so I can stop pinning things on Pinterest, stop following Instagram hashtags about wedding dresses, and generally stop daydreaming about what it would be like and laughing at the images of all my friends ugly-crying. So far he hasn’t said no for sure, but I still don’t have a ring.

One night we were making jokes about when we have kids. He’s been talking about us having kids since before we said I love you. The next day I was talking to a friend about it and how I would like to get married first, before we have kids. Not for any traditional reason. Mine was purely selfish. I wanted more time together without kids, and I wanted to have a wedding that was all about me, one where I didn’t have to worry about who was looking after the kid/s, what they were doing, who was watching them while we honeymooned, etc. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how old the eggs are getting. I am currently 37. I don’t want a quickie wedding, I want to plan one and have all my friends and family there. So by the time we get engaged, plan the wedding, have the wedding, I would be going on 39 before we even think of starting our family. And I’ve never had a pregnancy scare, who knows if I can even have kids, right? So then I’m 38/39 trying to have a baby, and if that doesn’t work, fertility treatments, adoption, etc. Both of which can be time-consuming and expensive.

That night I went home and said, Should we be serious about trying to start a family right now? He said Yep. Twist his rubber arm, right? This was sometime in mid to late March. I went off birth control right away and downloaded an app to track my period and ovulation. I was on a medication for my rheumatoid arthritis that is known to cause birth defects so I made an appointment to speak with my rheumatologist about it. I also made an appointment with my family doctor to get his advice. I had to take a double dose of medication used to treat high cholesterol for a week or so to flush the arthritis drug out of my body. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as it is for some people. Once that was done, then I had to get a blood test. The results in this can take some time as the blood has to be sent to the provincial lab to analyze. Once that was finished, my rheumatologist called to give me the go-ahead. In the meantime, I spoke with my family doctor, and he was soo excited at the prospect of me trying to have a baby! He told me to try for 6 months because of my age, and if I wasn’t pregnant by then, to come back and he would refer me to an obgyn to look at our options.

So, my period came in March as expected, and again in April. But it didn’t show up in May. I took a pregnancy test. I took 3 pregnancy tests in the days after my missed period. All negative. My period used to be very irregular when I was younger, and I had just gone off birth control. I wasn’t too worried yet and figured I would give it some time. But then I realized I missed my period in June too. So I took a test. I took 5 tests. They were all positive!!!!! Guys, I’m Pregnant! Holy shit.

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The Man From Chamberlain Gets a Name (Part 4)

Whoa, it has been such a long time! I’ve been busy living my life and keeping a lot of it to myself, my family, and close friends. Since I met the man from Chamberlain, I’ve felt the desire to keep him private. It just felt too special to share every moment along the way. But now I am ready to share with my dear, neglected readers. When I returned from Cuba, our relationship continued to grow. The Man from Chamberlain is named Bryce and I am in love with him. It was near the end of May last year when I asked him if we should be exclusive. He had been so all along. Me, not as much lol But he allowed me to make that move because he is sensitive to big changes in my life. Once this was established, I invited him to a birthday party to meet some of my friends. He fit in very well. He had worked a 12 hour day, then drove an hour to get to the party, stayed a few hours, drove an hour home, and was up at 5am to work another 12 hour day because he wanted to meet the people in my life. When he was ready to go, I walked him to his truck and asked if he wanted a blowjob. His face lit up and he said “Yeah!” I said, “Ok, let’s go. But I have a party to get back to, so don’t be a hero about it.”

A day or so later he asked me to go with him to the farm and meet his parents. They are so lovely and were pretty excited to meet me. We went shooting and razring in the bush, typical redneck things haha Unfortunately, shortly after this, a close family friend passed away. Bryce was very supportive and came along to attend the funeral (and meet my parents). He was more nervous to meet mine than I was meeting his. But there was nothing to worry about, my parents immediately loved him. A couple of weeks later, we attended my youngest cousin’s high school graduation. Most of my mom’s large extended family was there. Bryce comes from a small family, and besides his parents and brother, they don’t really get together that often. This was a very new, very loud, experience for him. All my aunties hugged him, maybe even snuck a kiss 😉 Bryce had to work of course, but he was able to leave work early and meet us at the house for supper. We had been celebrating all day and I was rather tipsy when he arrived. And this thought had been creeping into my head for the past couple of weeks and I had to keep reminding myself not to say anything while I was drunk. And then I got drunk. So when we went to bed, I kept telling myself ‘don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it’. But I couldn’t help myself and said “I love you”. He replied back, “I love you too.” I asked him how long he’s felt that way and he says, “Awhile, but the man can’t say it first.” *eyeroll*

Now, because we were all staying at my aunt’s house, every available bed was taken. They had set us up in the basement next to a bedroom wall and had made some curtain walls for us. Well, partial walls. The one side was only about half covered. Luckily, I’m sure everyone else had gone to bed already, so no one would come strolling by. However, the “bed” they had us on was a rather uncomfortable futon. An uncomfortable, squeaky futon. An uncomfortable, squeaky futon that moved and got louder with motion. So, of course we had sex on it. Twice.

A couple of weeks later, my uncle texted me and invited us out to their cabin for a fish fry. He and Bryce really hit it off and I’m pretty sure my family likes him better than me now. Oh well, at least I still get invited too haha

Cuba Conundrum

So when I went to Cuba, I went with a girlfriend and her friend, plus her son and some of his friends. It was a great, super fun group of people. But, I had a lot weighing on my mind at the time so I was not the usual vacation Amy. The girls I was with, however, stepped off the plane and fired up their dick radar like their lives depended on it! If I’d been in a different state of mind, Cuba would have really been in trouble 😉

I mean, obviously I still made some boyfriends, duh. There was one bartender who was about 50 and was in love with me. He was so sweet. He would hook us up with beer even after the bar was closed and flat out deny anyone else who came along looking for some. He also liked to try to grab my ass every time he was within reaching distance. Maybe that wasn’t so sweet, but I didn’t mind.

We ended up at some clubs in town one night and I wasn’t really feeling it so I left and walked back to the hotel. A cab pulls up and asks if I need a ride. I say no thank you because I’m literally just across the street from our resort. The driver says ok, watches me cross the street and then pulls a u-turn to follow me. I don’t think he spoke much English, but I was also drunk so I probably had trouble understanding English anyways lol He was handsome and sweet talking me and I leaned into his car and kissed him. He tried to convince me to get in and go for a drive. I said no, he got out and slid his hands over my hips. He was really hot. I told him I was going to bed and he asked when he could see me again. I said something like, How about tomorrow night? Midnight. I had to say it a few times a few different ways because of the language barrier. He agreed and kissed me goodbye. I did not go to meet him the next night and he’s probably still pining after me to this day 😉

Now, why didn’t I go to meet him or hookup with anyone else? (There was also a cute 20 year old saying very inappropriate, dirty things about what he was going to do to me haha) I didn’t feel guilty, I wasn’t in a relationship. But I did feel like I was starting to really like this man from Chamberlain and there would need to be something really special to attract me enough to fuck anyone besides him at this point. I was in trouble.

The Man From Chamberlain, Part 1

So I’ve been trying this new dating app called Bumble. It’s like Tinder, except when you match with someone, only the woman can message first and she only has 24 hours to do so and then the man has another 24 hours to respond. If the message is not sent or responded to, the match expires. My initial foray into Bumbling was pretty similar to every other dating app and didn’t seem that promising for finding anything or anyone special. Until I matched with the man from Chamberlain. He seemed pretty nice and normal and didn’t say anything gross or inappropriate to me, so I gave him my number. Our initial conversation happened on a weekend while I was on a little road trip with a friend to a small town to visit some other friends. Chamberlain seemed even better after my friend drunkenly swiped right and matched with all the local Tinder users. On my Tinder. One of them (an unattractive man in his 50s) even tracked me down on facebook after I didn’t respond to his messages and tried to engage me there. I engaged in blocking him.

Anyways, Chamberlain and I set up a date for the next night. But, after you throw up in a sink and then have to pull over on the side of the highway to puke up honeydew and water because your body is still mad at you for filling it with vodka, tequila, and special candies, plans change. I chose to lay perfectly still for hours and hours instead of going on a date. It was the right choice. But the night after, that night was a go.

He took me to Red Lobster because he was watching tv and it was lobster days or something. It had been awhile since I’d gone on a proper date, so it was pretty nice to have someone come and pick me up and take me out for supper. We had pretty good conversation, he made me laugh and asked me lots of questions. His truck doesn’t have command start and takes a long time to warm up. It was February and pretty cold outside. It wasn’t exactly environmentally friendly, but he left it running the entire time we were inside so that I wouldn’t be cold when we left. He drove me home and was already talking about things we could do on our next date and future dates. I think my responses were something like, mmhmm, yeah sure, sounds good. There was no kiss on the first date, but there was something about him, and so I did agree to see him again.

The Ontario Hammer

This is a story I never got around to telling you from sometime last year. It was the same time as this guy. The same week actually. I had matched with this cutie on Tinder and we went back and forth casually and then one day he was gone. Whatever, it happens. But a few days later, I received a facebook messenger request from an unfamiliar name. I take a look and it’s Tinder boy. “So you stalked me all the way to fb, hey?” “haha Yep”.

This is an instance where stalking/tracking someone down on social media is acceptable. Because we had several conversations and I had expressed interest and hadn’t unmatched him, I didn’t find it out of line for him to find me there. He told me he had recently broken up with his girlfriend and her friends had told her about his profile and drama ensued. So he deleted it altogether. Has someone ever tracked you down on social media after you rejected them on another platform? Last month one of my friend’s was drunk swiping my Tinder so I ended up with some…let’s call them interesting…matches. One older man messaged me. I think I responded with a drunk hello and that was it. He continued to message me the next day, even with no other responses. And the day after. When I still didn’t respond, he decided to track me down on FB and send me some messages there. Even after I didn’t accept his message request, the messages just kept coming. I ended up blocking him.

So back to my original story. He was young, 24 or 25, a PLT, and worked on a contract crew doing work for the company I work for. Obviously the first thing to come to my mind was that we should have a pole climbing competition 😉 We chatted on messenger a few times, and each time he tried to charm his way over to my apartment. The only reason I didn’t give in right away was my schedule. I wasn’t really playing hard to get.

The night that I did let him come over, I realized as he was on his way that I hadn’t even properly creeped his FB profile! Fucking amateur hour over here! We had two mutual friends. Another PLT and one of my girlfriends. Obviously I messaged her to find out how she knew him exactly. It turns out she met him a few years ago on a night that we were out together. It’s possible I even met him that night. I know my friends pretty well, and I would have been surprised if she hadn’t slept with him. You can go ahead and assume I wasn’t surprised after talking to her. It didn’t bother me #eskimosisters. Plus, he was already on his way. What was I supposed to do? NOT have sex?

This guy was fun to fuck. He was way into giving and receiving ALL the rim jobs. At first he asked me to put a finger in, but I have long gel nails, and, well, it wouldn’t be a good situation for anyone to have those poking around. And they’re already such a bitch to clean underneath without worrying about doing it after my finger has been in someone’s asshole. Maybe I’ll do it sometime though, just in the hopes that I’ll lose a nail…

As I said, he was also generous with his own mouth and I enjoyed his thoroughness. And once we started fucking…holy jesus. Kid could hammer! If I’d been up against the wall, I would have been through the wall. I think he moved back to Ontario shortly after we hooked up for a job offer. I hope he’s putting that hammer to good use and rupturing all the eastern cervixes.

Hi-Vis and Man Chowder

It was an evening a few months, and I received a message on Pof from this guy. It’s a normal message, just a “Hi, how are you” kind of thing. So I take a look at his profile and his profession says he’s a PLT. Now my curiosity is piqued. Because first of all, who doesn’t love a man in hi-vis? And secondly, do I know him? (If you don’t know me personally, I have spoken to a lot of PLT’s throughout my time at my job.) So I respond. His response to my response is to apologize and say he shouldn’t have messaged me. I ask why. He says because it’s because it’s late and he’s horny. *eyeroll* I ask him if he wants to start over in the morning then. And he says yes, but then chats normally with me for a little bit. I start asking him questions about his job and where he works and and if he’s on a crew and he finally senses something and asks why I know so much about his job and I half-lie and tell him I know some PLT’s so I was just wondering. He accepted that. From his answers, and where he’s from, I figured out who he was, based on who I knew he wasn’t. We hadn’t exchanged names by this point, I was trying to guess on my own lol 
I had given him my number to text me the next day and he did. He messaged me with his name which just confirmed my guess at who he was. We chatted for a bit and then asked if I wanted to see what he had been up to the night before. I started to feel a little guilty at this point about not telling him I knew who he was so I told him that the reason I had been asking about his job is because I used to talk to him on the phone when he was working for the same company that I work for. And then I asked if he still wanted to show me what he had been doing. He said No, but then did anyways. Obviously. Men want to show me their dicks. I got a picture AND a video! This guy definitely had some dick to work with! And I had an interest in getting on the crew to work with it too. So we kept texting.

We talked about what we were looking for. When you’re online dating, that’s always the big question. “So what are you looking for?” He was into casual. Great. I wasn’t interested in dating him, so that worked for me. We moved onto sexting. He’s a kinky fuck. Which I can get behind. And he was pretty open to me getting behind him as well. Ifyouknowwhatimean winkwink nudg nudge. BUT, he was very wrapped up in himself. I think I’m fairly generous in bed, and I put that through in my sexting as well. I had to tell him to make it more about me when we were texting. He was also an exhibitionist. He rarely asked me for a picture, preferring to send me pictures instead. And CONSTANTLY trying to get me to facetime him so I could watch him jerk off. Like, every time we texted. Now, as you know, when I’m in the right mood, I like watching men masturbate. I’ve never met this man, but from what I already knew about him, I knew I wouldn’t be able to produce the reaction that he wanted. It felt like he wanted me to have to mop up the floor after watching what he surely imagined was the dick equivalent of Canada Day fireworks to be because my pussy would have no choice except to start gushing in awe and wonder. So I kept refusing, and finally told him that if there ever came a point where I wanted a live viewing of Top Chef, Man Chowder edition, I would let him know.

He just kept pushing. I was losing interest fast. Because of his schedule working out of town, and my schedule, there weren’t a lot of opportunities for us to meet. I was trying to keep him at a distance because I didn’t want a bunch of built-up expectations. For either of us. I don’t think it worked. One night he messaged me and asked how come I never message him first. Ummm….what? I told him that because it was just a casual thing, I didn’t think a lot of attention was required. To which he replied that he wasn’t closed off to a relationship, it was just that he didn’t want to put any pressure on anything, and he did want to talk to me. Ooookaaaaay.

After this, he asked if I was sleeping with anyone (I was) and that if we started fucking/dating exclusively, would I stop sleeping with other men. What.The.Fuck. Who fucks exclusively, but isn’t dating? That seems unfair. Anyways, I told him if the agreement was to not fuck anyone else, then yes.

I’m not sure if I meant it. I probably did. Maybe. I dunno man, don’t try to put me in a box!

We had plans to meet up at his place, but the closer it got, the more I realized I was really not into it. Not even a ding dong ditch. I had been unfairly leading him on and dragging the whole thing out and should have ended it awhile ago, especially when he basically told me he was interested in more than sex. So I cancelled. He didn’t text me for 2-3 weeks after that. But then he did. I didn’t respond. So he texted again a couple weeks after that. Again, no response. He messaged me on Christmas. I responded with a Merry Christmas. He asked if I was free. I said no. That was the end.

The Aussie

Before I went on vacation at the end of the summer, I decided to get some lash extensions. I’ve had them in the past and love them. They really brighten up your face and add a little something special, even when you’re not wearing any makeup. For anyone who has never had them, or doesn’t know what they entail, let me tell you about them. You lay on a bed for an hour or more, and the lash technician puts a sticky bandage type thing underneath your eyes. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a little uncomfortable if they don’t get it quite right because it can pull at your bottom lashes and skin. Don’t be afraid to tell them if it’s too uncomfortable. Then they glue lashes onto your own individual lashes. My eyes are a little sensitive and the glue irritates them a bit, but beauty is pain, right? RIGHT? The finished product is worth it, but you do have to take care of them. Try not to get them wet, don’t use oil-based makeup removers, if you feel like you need to use mascara, don’t use waterproof mascara and only use it on the tips, don’t rub your eyes, don’t pull on them, try not to sleep on them, don’t use eyelash curlers, and make sure you brush them out. Ok, so I know that sounds like a pain in the ass, and it is, but whatever. Still worth it. If you take care of them, they’ll last 3-4 weeks before you feel like you really need a fill. The lashes will fall out with your own natural lashes, but will obviously go sooner if you’re rough with them. When I had them done before my trip to Jamaica a few years ago, being in the pool and ocean all week meant they didn’t last as long as I was used to. So anyways, I decided to get them before going on vacation.
I was at a wedding in Wenatchee, Washington and a friend and myself drove back, up through BC and Alberta on our way back to Saskatchewan. We stopped for a couple of nights in Kelowna. Now, I had been on Tinder for most of the trip, checking out what Washington had to offer and had talked to a few men. None of them really interested me much though. I found the same thing when we got to Kelowna. There were some good looking men there, but none sparked my interest too much. There were a couple I talked to a decent amount (as much as you can in 24 hours lol), but they both got super intense. The one still messages me now that I’m home, even though we never met, and wants to come visit me. The other one hasn’t messaged me for a bit now, but he was really into the idea of waking up next to me and spending a day with me. I was not into that. But I did find someone that I WAS into. I can’t say for sure what it was about him. Maybe it was how he made me laugh, or maybe it was his Australian accent, or maybe it was the walking tour of a distillery and two craft breweries I’d done that afternoon. Whatever it was, we had chemistry and he asked if I wanted to have a drink. He said he had a bottle of wine that was begging to be tasted (funnily enough, that wine and I had a lot in common). I told him I was travelling with a friend and that maybe we should go to his place. The problem with that? His place is a van. Stop laughing. He’s an urban planner in Australia, but he really loves BC. So he works in Australia and then takes time off to travel through BC. To do that, he bought a van that he drives around, and sometimes sleeps in when he’s not couch surfing with friends. So I asked my friend if he would mind doing some site-seeing in Kelowna by himself for a couple of hours. He was happy to do so. He’s no clam-jammer!

Aussie comes over with a lovely bottle of wine and tells me about his life, asks me questions, and is a genuinely nice guy. We drink the bottle and he puts the moves on. I love a great makeout and he did not disappoint. He really loved my hair too, everything from the colour to how long and thick it is and he couldn’t stop touching it. His dick was uncut, but I’m not that fussy about it, as long as it’s clean. Wine and dick cheese is not my idea of a good time. He was really concerned about me getting off, which was awesome. He worked really hard at it, figuring out what I liked and listening to my directions. He had a move I’ve never really experienced before too. When he first started doing it, I was laying there thinking, who gave this guy his medical degree? Am I due for a pap already? Is this guy checking on my ovaries? But then I quickly got on board with what he was doing. While he used one hand to slip a couple fingers in and massage my g-spot, he use the other hand to push down on my lower belly. The extra pressure from both sides on my g-spot was incredible! I lended my own hand to the cause it wasn’t long before our teamwork paid off and I was a happy girl. He was rock fucking hard up until he put on the condom. Then, not so much. But, like I said, I’m a team player, and, eager to repay all his hard work, I gave him a blow job. He kneeled in front of me and as he got closer to cumming, he put his hands in my hair and started pulling my head in closer to him. Every time I’d come in after the back swing, I could feel my eyelashes hitting his pelvis and all I could think was, “OMG MY LASHES!!!” I mean, they were only a week old! Hurry the fuck up, amiright ladies?!

He came, my lashes were mostly intact, we made out some more, and he texted to make sure I made it home from BC. Thanks, Aussie.

Dumbass Roommate: Part 3

Ok, so I give him notice and I tell him that if he wants to keep any of the stuff I’m using, he’s welcome to it. I am moving into a small apartment and need to get of so much stuff, so he’d be doing me a favour by taking it anyways. I do this in a text. No response. The only time he responds to me is when I ask him a direct question. I tell him that he needs to clean his room because the landlord will want to show it to prospective tenants. And I make a point to tell him he should air his bedroom out and make sure it smells ok. Even with the door closed, it had a rather…pungent odour. If I were to tell you it smelled like teenage boy, would you know what I meant? If not, read this:

This fresh, woody fragrance is effervescent with dark, musky notes of body odour, feet, stale beer, and semen. A fragrance of contrasts, it is a unique, aromatic combination.

Imagine testing that out in Sephora. Or getting in a 3-wick at Bath and Body Works. Maybe it could be the latest fragrance from Viktor & Rolph. Spicebomb Junior.

Try not smelling that now. You can’t. Once smelled, it cannot be unsmelled. Even in your imagination.

He did tidy up. The smell was less pronounced once he aired the room out and covered it with some air freshener.

I purge a lot of my stuff, sell a lot, and still I haven’t heard from him about the things I let him use. So I have to ask again. He says no, he won’t be needing to take anything with him. Ok. This kid who moved in with almost nothing besides his clothes a tv doesn’t need any furniture. Sure. I tell him to clean everything up then and take it out of his room so I can try and sell it. He moves the shelves out, but is still using the bed. Which is fine. Until the day comes when I have someone coming to take a couple loads of garbage to the dump. He hasn’t moved the bed out yet so I go into his room to pull the mattress out and put it in the yard. I lift it up off the floor (remember, he put the box spring back in the garage shortly after moving in and had the mattress directly on the floor) and there’s a wet spot. I should have taken a picture of this, but I was so perplexed, i didn’t even think about it. Where did this wet spot come from? It had obviously been there awhile because the sheet on the mattress wasn’t wet. But underneath the mattress was. And when I looked at the bottom of the mattress, there were a bunch of holes in it. 15-20 small holes that I assume had been eaten through by mould. WTF happened? Did he spill a glass of water? Did he spill beer? Did he piss the bed? I don’t know. But it was weird. He obvious spilled something and then didn’t clean it up and just kept sleeping on it. Probably for weeks. The worst part was that the guy I had hauling the garbage away probably wondered wtf was wrong with me after seeing that mattress with the holes. Oh, and I had lent him some bedding when he moved in because he didn’t even come with a blanket. I don’t know what happened to the blankets, but I saw them in the garbage. I guess if they were anything like the mattress, the garbage is exactly where they belong instead of turning me into Regina’s very own Outbreak monkey. 

On the day that I was cleaning the house, he was a big help. Seriously. I wasn’t expecting him to do much more than clean his bedroom, but he spent the whole day cleaning with me. I had talked to the landlord and we were going to wait until the next week to do the walk through because they were really busy and I didn’t mind waiting. So I go to leave and my roommate asks me about the damage deposit. The entire year and a half we lived together, he had zero common sense, knew nothing about living on his own or with other people, but he knew that he had a damage deposit coming back to him. I told him it would probably be the next week. I felt a little bad because it was the long weekend coming up and he could probably use the money since he had no job. But that wasn’t my problem. All the times this kid made me wait for rent money, he could wait an extra week.

When I got my damage deposit back, I texted him and said I would e-transfer it to him. He asked if I could meet him somewhere and give him cash. He was overdrawn on his account and he was trying to move to Winnipeg and could use all the money he could get. Fair enough, we’ve all been there. So I tell him to meet me at the Cornwall downtown at 2pm the next day. That works for him. I get there early, do a bit of shopping and at 155 I text him to tell him I’m by the escalators. 10 minutes later, I text him to ask if he’s in the mall and will be there soon because I have to leave in 10 minutes for work. No response. I hang out for another 15 minutes and then I leave to go to work. At 240, he texts me saying he was helping his grandma with something and waiting out the rain and was on his way. I shouldn’t be surprised that he thought I’d still be waiting around around for him. I told him I’d already left, so he said ok, just transfer the money then. So I did. The next day he texts me and gives me his email address to transfer the deposit to. I say I sent it yesterday to his phone number and ask if he got the text notification about it. He informs me that his phone was cut off so he can only use iChat when he’s on wifi. So I have to cancel the transfer and resend it. And that’s the last contact I’ve had with him. Hopefully he made it to Winnipeg. Obviously all the stories are the funny/weird/gross/dumbass ones, but he is also a nice guy. He was always good about pet sitting when I was away and doing the things I asked him to do, like shovel snow, or clean something up, and he didn’t smoke crack or steal my stufd. So I wish him the best. And now I am living in a small apartment with zero human roommates, life is good, and I am naked all of the time!

Dumbass Roommate: Part 2

Shortly after my roommate had first moved in, he asked me if I had a pair of nail clippers he could borrow. I gave him a spare pair I had, not the pair I use all the time. He takes it into his room and returns a minute later apologizing because he broke my nail clippers. He was trying to cut his toenails and they broke my nail clippers. They broke them. Right in half. Speaking of toenails, the one day, I woke up and went to have a bath and sink down into the bathtub and something catches my eye. I turn and look and sitting on the shelf by the tub at eye level are the thickest, yellowest pieces of toenail that I’ve ever seen in my life. I started gagging and had to cover them up. When my bath was finished, I used some tissue to gather them up and then sprinkled them in his bed.

There was a night, early on when we lived together when I went out. It was a Friday night and a friend and I had gone for drinks and dancing and I arrived home in the wee hours of Saturday morning and went to bed. The house was quiet. I’m snuggled in my bed, sleeping off the booze when I wake up to my blankets being ripped off my naked body and a female voice telling me she’s cold and to move over. I’m groggy and hungover and start to move over, my immediate thought being that my friend spent the night on the couch and didn’t have enough blankets. Then remembered I came home alone and I don’t know who the fuck is talking to me. I roll over and open my eyes and it’s some girl I’ve never seen before and she’s still telling me she’s cold and to let her in the bed. I say something along the lines of, “What? Who are you? Why are you in my room? Get out!” “But I’m cold.” “I don’t fucking care, get out.” “Just let me get in and warm up for a little bit.” “No! Are you fucking kidding me? Get the fuck out of my room!” “But..” “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING BEDROOM!!!” She finally leaves and I go back to sleep. I wake up a little while later and can hear music and assume she’s watching TV way louder than she needs to be, so I get up, I go out into the house and she’s on the couch and has my roommate’s alarm clock and is passed out with the radio blasting. I turn it off and go back to my room and back to bed. By the time I wake up again, she’s finally gone. The next time I see my roommate, I tell him what happened and he apologizes profusely, he had no idea, and assures me it won’t happen again.

It was always a little weird whenever he had people over. He rarely spent any time in the house that wasn’t in his bedroom. So they would hang out in his bedroom. And he would never answer the door. He would be expecting his friend or brother to come over and he’d be sleeping. I’d be watching TV and then have to answer the door. I wouldn’t have actually answered the door except that our front door was never locked because the door didn’t shut properly. We had a sun porch, so there was a second door that we kept locked (after I had to make it clear to him that yes, we do in fact lock the door to the house when we leave), but anyone could come in the front door and then see through the windows in the door into the house. This meant that when I was sitting on the couch watching TV, it was impossible to ignore the face looking through the window. Believe me, I tried. And whenever I left for a few days, I would always come home to his brother hanging out in the livingroom. Alone. He would be in his room, usually sleeping, and his brother would just be hanging out watching tv, not cleaning up after himself. I didn’t mind him having his brother being over, but even when he knew I would be home, he wouldn’t make sure his brother took off. The one time I left for a few days and came back, I walked in and the house stunk like cooking oil. Like, really stunk. And his brother was on my couch eating homemade fries and bannock. I asked where Jesse was and he said sleeping. The cooking would have been ok, except that shortly after I came home, he left and didn’t clean up after himself. And neither did Jesse. There was oil EVERYWHERE. They had used both of my frying pans for this little adventure and completely ruined one of them. I’m surprised there wasn’t a fire started. All the paper towel was gone (of which I was the only one to ever buy). And there was food left out. I finally ended up cleaning the kitchen because he left and didn’t come home for a couple of days.

The key. Obviously when he moved in, I have him a key to the house. After a couple weeks of realizing he never locked the door, I had to tell him to lock the door. I thought that was common sense, but it was not. I had a spare key in the bbq, just in case. I’ve been known to lose a key or two in my day, so it’s always a good idea for me to have a spare around. My parents came to visit for Agribition in November and I met them at the event. We left to meet my brother for lunch, but we took my parents’ truck and I left my car there. When we got back, parking was a mess, so I dropped my parents off and said I would go home for an hour or two and then meet them later. It’s not until I get home that I realize my house keys were in my car. I go to grab the spare key and it’s gone. I text my roommate and yes, he has it. I’m pissed. This isn’t the first time and I can’t believe I have to explain to this idiot again that the point of the spare key is to be there as a spare. The next day I have another key made and I leave it in the porch and tell him that I’m tired of him losing his key and leaving it places and then taking the spare so I’m leaving one in the porch so it’s as easy as possible for him to put it back. It wasn’t a great hiding place, but it was out of site. Our porch was just used for storage so I put it in a basket with some scarves right beside the door. After a week or so, I had to explain to this kid that even though it wasn’t a great hiding spot, it was better than him leaving it beside the basket instead of covering it with the fucking scarf in the goddamn basket! So he started doing that. I started using that key too instead of carrying my house keys when I went out or when I walked Walter. And then I come home one day and the key is gone. Luckily, I had put a second spare key in a second hiding spot. I asked my roommate about it and he said he had taken it. So I said that was now his key there there was another spare one and do not take it again! Everything is good for months. Until I come home from work one day and the key is gone. Luckily I had my own key with me and could still get in the house. I text my roommate about it and his response is, “Yeah, I thought I’d take it with me today.” My response is, “What the fuck for? It’s the fucking spare key and I use it too. What if I’d just been out for a walk? Put the key back when you get home and don’t fucking take it again!” He apologizes and then tells me he’s trying to get his license to help him get a new job. He has his learner’s, but he needs to practice and would it be ok for him to take my car to practice with one of his friends that has a license. I couldn’t even believe the nerve of this kid. I can’t trust him to leave a fucking key under a scarf and he wants me to let him drive my car?! I gave him a straight up FuckYourMother No.

Once in awhile he would come out of his room and go to the front door and then come back in with a bag of food. I don’t know if it was from his grandma or what it was, but he’d put it in the fridge and it was always leftovers of some sort. Sometimes he would go to the door and then come back with nothing. I always wondered what he was doing, but didn’t think too much of it. And then one night he wasn’t around or maybe was sleeping. Actually, I think he was sleeping and I had to answer the door in my housecoat. There was a girl there who asked if he was home. I said I didn’t know. She handed me $20 and said he had asked her to drop that off for him. It reminded me of the time I found a $20 bill in our mailbox, so I brought it into the house and held onto it for a couple of days, thinking that if it was for Jesse, he would ask me if I’d found money in the mailbox. He didn’t, so I kept it. So, either mystery money, or I stole $20 that was meant for him. Oh well.

During the last 6 months or so of us living together, he had trouble paying his rent on time. As in, he didn’t pay it on time. He had been going to school for a few months and was at the point between school and work and wasn’t getting paid. Except he didn’t tell me this until I asked the day after rent was due where his rent money was. Normally he would e-transfer it on the 1st or sooner. He was pretty consistent with that most of the time we lived together so I thought maybe he just hadn’t realized it was the 1st of the month. Nope. Turns out he knew the date, he just didn’t have any money and didn’t tell me, and he wouldn’t have rent for a week or two. So I asked, well is it a week or is it two? Because one week, not a major problem. Two weeks, we’re starting to have a problem. Guess which it was? I told him in the future, if he’s going to be late, he needs to give me a head’s up before the 1st so that I can budget for it. But to not be late because when he is, I have to cover that. Rent has to be paid. He said ok. The next month comes. I get paid on the last day of the month and have some bills I pay on that day. So I did that, normal routine. 10:30pm he texts me and says he won’t have rent until Friday. It’s Monday night. And I just paid a bunch of bills. He took what I told him the month before as literally as possible.  This continued on for the next 4 months, except he didn’t let me know in advance, ever. And then he got laid off. I had decided to move and was looking at places, but hadn’t given my notice to the landlord yet. I didn’t want to have anyone coming to look at the house and tip him off. Given his past history, he might think it was ok to just ditch out on me. So I gave him the minimum required notice of one month. And that was the time that he was a week early with his rent and did a bunch of house cleaning. I woke up one morning and he had obviously spent part of the night cleaning. When I went to bed, his pile of dishes was still there. When I woke up, the dishes were done and put away, everything was wiped down, and the floors were…well, he had attempted to clean them. The sun was shining in through the kitchen window and at first I thought maybe it was the light that made the floor look weird. The kitchen flooring was black tile and it looked grey. Upon closer inspection, it WAS grey. It had been raining that week and there were Walter paw prints that hadn’t been cleaned yet. I’m not sure what he used to wash the floor. Quite possibly the dishcloth from the sink. And essentially just dampened the dirt that was on the floor and moved it around to evenly cover it, end to end. Good effort.

Stay tuned for the moving out story!